#fic: today i bury you in me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-darklings · 2 years

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──𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 [𝐈.]

summary: "What does the Lord of Dreams dream about?"

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

wc: 3.1k

warnings: pre the sandman so minimal spoilers, a lil angsty, some yearning, putting a thousand years into a slow burn, Dream is Dream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

notes: so I originally intended to write and post this as one massive fic but decided to split it up and do a snapshots series when/as I get inspired instead. yes, this really will span 1000 years because Dream is Like That™

series masterlist |

PART ONE: YEAR 0 TO 200

It begins with a cool, rasping: “Wake up.”

Butterfly wings beat against your cheek, sweet pollen dusting your skin while a yawn works your mouth. You smother it in your hand, or try, feeling oddly refreshed for a change.

“Good mornin’,” you mumble, blinking blearily up at the looming, dark silhouette above you. “Who are you?”

The man before you is neither tall nor short—he's somewhere in between human traits and something old, ancient. A forgotten mortal instinct hums beneath your skin that this is no ordinary man. He's pale, drawn, clothed in all black. His stoic countenance doesn't shift. He doesn't leer or ogle. He simply stands there, a still statue in a backdrop of luscious green, and you blink owlishly up at him.

“I’m the King of Dreams and Nightmares, and this is my domain.”

Even his voice is at odds with this place. Deep, low, rasping drawl.

“Oh. That’s nice.”

He certainly has an intense stare, piercing despite the softness of his words, “Who are you?”

Rubbing dust off your cheek, you yawn again, stretching your arms over your head. You feel better than you have… in a long time.

“I’m the Wanderer. Or at least that’s what others call me. I don’t have any fancy titles, though.”

The man in all black circles you unhurriedly. Flowers beneath his feet seem to part for him, humming with life. It’s a casual display, one he likely doesn’t even notice, but you do. The air in the meadow is warm, sweet, and filled with pulsing power oozing from him.

“You are not a dream, nor are you a nightmare,” he concludes. “You’re mortal, and yet…”

You raise your hand. “Cursed mortal,” you clarify helpfully.

He turns towards you slowly. Wait. King. Right. “Uh, your liege,” you add lamely.

“A cursed mortal,” he repeats steadily. “You do not belong here, Wanderer. Leave my realm now, or I will have you removed.”

“Wait, wait…” You scramble to your feet, dusting your clothes. It’s pointless, of course, but old habits die hard. “One question before I go.”

He pauses mid-turn, silent. But you take it as a sign you should continue. Tilting your head to the side, you examine the black speck in an endless sea of wonderment, realising he’s created this. He’s the one who crafted this beauty. What an odd contradiction. Maybe that’s why your original question slips past your mind, latching onto another question altogether.

“What does the Lord of Dreams dream about?”

His pale stare snaps to you.

A blink, then he’s gone.

“Rude.”

“I told you to leave.”

“You did. But you never said I couldn’t come back.”

The Lord of Dreams stares down at you. You twist a poppy between your lips with a grin, dropping one leg over your bent knee.

“You are rather bold for a curse.”

You sit up, crossing your legs beneath you. The poppy flower drifts into your open palm. “I’ll make you a deal.”

His head slants slightly. On anyone else, such a gesture might be scornful or condescending. But on him, it’s no more than idle indifference. His black coat brushes over the flowers as he strolls ahead, his gait leisurely.

“And why would I care for such a thing?” he wonders idly. “Do not make me banish you. There’s no place for you here.”

There’s no venom or contempt to be found in his words. He’s stating facts and eventualities as casually as one might discuss the weather.

You choke down on a bitter laugh, a distant helplessness lancing through your chest. “I know. Trust me, I know. I… look. I wander. It’s what I do. I swear I won’t cause you trouble. Your realm is a beautiful place, that’s all. I won’t stay here permanently anyway. I can’t. But may I please stop by occasionally? I’ll stay out of your way, I swear.”

His impassive bearing doesn’t soften. Shrewd, old eyes—sad eyes, you conclude distantly—regard you from beneath a wild mop of dark hair. “You presume I’m one to grant clemency?”

He has a point there, but you’re not about to point it out.

Sun bears down on you both, and it’s comical how much he sticks out in this prepossessing dream. Sulky and dark—it’s hard to comprehend this came from him. That someone so removed could craft such beauty solely for other humans to escape into. Dream Lord might be aloof, but he’s not all bad. No one putting so much care into their realm could be.

“No offence, but you’re not as bad as some of your other siblings,” you point out dryly.

Faint interest materialises in that bottomless, ancient gaze. Brief as it is. “You’ve met the Endless?”

You suppose that would be a big deal in anyone’s book, won’t it? You’ve stopped thinking about it, though. Had your mortal mind pondered the vastness making up this universe, you would have driven yourself mad. Maybe that was the point of the curse. Oddly fitting, you suppose. Your real punishment would be eternal madness. You take it one day at a time now. Not belonging anywhere is better than not existing at all.

“Every realm and dimension in this universe is open to me, but I can’t stay there for long,” you explain, hoping that knowing more, understanding more, would help your case. “I get trapped in pockets between worlds. Have you ever been stuck in Despair’s domain? Your sister is not a fun person to be around.”

King of Dreams considers you with ponderous air. “Why can’t you stay?”

Damn it. You hoped he won’t ask. Though hoping that an ancient, all-powerful god personified won’t work through all the threads swiftly was probably idiotic hope at best.

“Oh, you know,” you begin casually with a shrug and a faint laugh, tiptoeing through the flowers surrounding you. “The usual curse stuff. Death, misery and misfortune follow me everywhere I go. No place to belong bla bla bla.”

“All the more reason you should go.”

You pause, deflating. Your back to him, you nod, shoulders slumping. He has a reputation, doesn't he? You've asked about him since your last visit. Lonesome, reticent, fearsome if pushed. "Right. Uh, do you at least have a name? Or should I continue calling you my liege?"

You peek at him over your shoulder. You're unsure if you should laugh at his slightly sour expression or if that will get you locked up in some dingy pocket universe. Nah. You're not important enough. He's also far too powerful and knows it. Nor does he seem like the type.

“Dream,” he says lastly.

Your grin is bright and immediate, pleasantly surprised by the fact he answered at all. “Nice to meet you. I’m Wanderer.” Huffing, you hang your head in abashed amusement, continuing, “I already told you that, but just in case you forgot.”

You lift your head to find an empty meadow. Your look around wildly, groaning.

“That’s really rude, by the way!” you shout into the balmy air.

Your words bounce and slice through the Dreaming, as endless as its ruler. No reply comes.

The trees and the flowers around you rustle with the breeze as if silently agreeing with you.

“Before you say anything or pull apart my atoms, I’m sorry. I’m still pretty new at this. Sometimes I just end up places. I can’t help it.”

Dream’s gaze is emotionless as the previous times you’ve run into each other. It’s been a while this time. Time itself is an odd thing; slippery and woolly when you slip through dimensions and unfailingly confusing each time.

Dream’s hands remain clasped behind his back. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking, but he hasn’t torn you to pieces or thrown you out yet, so that’s something. Or maybe you’re too accustomed to hostile company. He hasn’t done or said anything offputting, you remind yourself. He’s been distant, perhaps a touch protective of his realm, but hardly unpleasant. Or threatening.

Deam Lord strides alongside the river shore, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Who cursed you?”

You splash your legs in the sparkly water, delighted by how pleasant and authentic it feels. Everything about the Dreaming feels more solid than the waking world ever has. “I don’t know.”

He pauses, still the only dark smear in an otherwise tableau, colourful scene. “You do not remember.”

So an ancient God is astute. Who would have figured that one?

“Okay, fine.” You shrug your shoulders, slanting your head towards the blue sky. “I don’t, I forgot. I don’t remember my human life. It was taken from me. Another quirky part of my curse, I suppose. I don’t know my name, who I was, or why I was cursed. Eternal torment, yay!”

There’s little joy to be found in your quiet, tight words. There’s only emptiness, a drawn-out eternity you will spend drifting from one place to another, yawning before you. Never wanted anywhere, never happy. Every day is about making peace with that knowledge and trying to continue despite it. On days like today, it’s almost easy.

Dream stands facing away from you, but his head is slanted in your direction ever-so-slightly. The quiet intensity burns into your skin, pecking under it. There's nothing he will find there—no power, no secrets—that you haven't already divulged to him.

“And if you could?” His words come out quieter than usual. You’re not naive enough to consider it curiosity, not with how apathetic he sounds. “Would you seek absolution—”

“Sleep.”

A beat, then, “So you’re slothful.”

How can someone sound so flat yet so unimpressed at the same time? You almost snort.

Your feet drop back into the stream, splashing water around you. Beneath the current, your heels dig into the pebbled river floor. “I can’t sleep.”

Air tightens and coils around you. The temperature drops several degrees in a single breath. Black, treacherous clouds swell on the horizon in mere seconds. There’s a tickle of air, and then the King of Dreams is beside you in a rustle of cloth, except this time, some nameless darkness swirls beneath his skin. In pitch-black shadows his hunched form casts. He’s King of Nightmares, too, and it’s all too easy to forget it.

“Do not…” he rasps, “lie to me, Wanderer.”

“I’m not,” you retort weakly, breathless.

Dream stretches to his full height, still expressionless, shadows at his feet now gone. He doesn't lunge, doesn't sneer. He hadn't even raised his voice. He's serene in the most terrifying way possible. "Do you take me for a fool? You were sleeping the first time we met."

Your fingers dig into the dirt beneath your palms.

“Yes. Why do you think I want to come here so badly?” You force out a breath, levelling your voice, reminding yourself that while Dream might not be cruel, it doesn’t mean he will tolerate disrespect in his kingdom. “This… is the only place I can rest, Dream. Ever. I can’t sleep, and I can’t dream.”

He appears unconvinced. “Every mortal dreams.”

Iron-like certainty—as if the thought of an exception doesn’t compute because his knowledge is absolute.

A sad, wobbling smile works across your mouth. “Not someone like me.”

This time, he says nothing.

“What about that one?”

The dream in question is a creation between a unicorn and a butterfly. Golden shimmer drips from its body every time it moves, munching on virescent, tall grass.

“I created it three hundred years ago.”

For nearly two hundred years, you’ve been slipping in and out of the Dreaming, and its ruler remains as frustrating as the first time you met. With Dream, some things are routine: his indulgence in your conversation, monotonous as he can sound during them; strolling through the Dreaming and meeting its many occupants, dreams and nightmares he’s crafted.

It’s not quite chaperoning, but it’s not quite friendship, either. Dream permits you to visit, but you never stay long or are invited to do so. At best, he tolerates you. Which is still better than outright contempt. He’s holding something back. A wall between him and any other creation well and truly erect, utterly impenetrable. Dream Lord rules over his domain and follows his rules. Unchanged and preferring it that way. He savours his solitary existence, and it’s sad, in a way, because he lives in a place of such impossible beauty and wonder.

You’ve learned some things about him with your visits. His love for his creations is fierce despite no sentimental displays toward them. He’s impersonal even to those you would assume he trusts the most, like Lucienne. He can, you’ve also found, be unforgiving to those who break his rules. It’s a necessity, not cruelty, but it doesn’t change the fact you’ve seen first-hand how he rules.

“Wow, thank you for that riveting detail,” you drawl sarcastically, kicking a small rock in your path. “I’m feeling so inspired.” Leaning closer, you squint at him suspiciously, “Are you sure you’re not secretly Despair in there?”

Not a twitch of jaw or a quirk of his brows. “I am not.”

Pursing your lips, you grin gleefully, “Prove it.”

Dream doesn’t slow. On such occasions, he must surely consider you a nuisance at best, a pest at worst. None of it shows on his face.

“What makes you believe I care about proving myself to someone like you?” he questions dryly.

He’s not endeavouring to insult you. To him, you must be no more than an exceedingly resilient ant.

The path ahead is winding, with no visible end in sight, but a stone bridge sits in the far distance to the right. Over it, more marvels this world contains. Everything here is fantastical and beautiful and frightening all at once. You can’t get enough. You doubt you’ll ever be able to get enough of the Dreaming. Perhaps the most confusing thing is how readily Dream himself chooses to see this only as a duty. One he seemingly enjoys but not one to bring him much joy personally. You’ve never once seen him smile.

He cuts for a lonely figure seated upon his throne. In a sprawling castle where his subjects choose to step out of his path rather than into it.

“Then race me,” you challenge, spinning on your heels until you’re walking backwards. Another grin, toothy and exigent, bites into your cheeks. “Just to the bridge over there. Have some fun for once, Dream King.”

“I do not—”

But you’re sprinting ahead before he’s finished, a happy shriek piercing the air, “See ya!”

A kaleidoscope of colour blinds you, smears and twines around you—rich, syrupy power seeps into your skin and mouth as you sprint ahead with reckless abandon. In your acceleration, the edges of the Dreaming blur and expand; in those edges, Dream is everywhere. He is the Dreaming. He’s life and death, joy and terror, and—

Black blots the path ahead. Dream stands next to the bridge, regarding you impassively. But for a second, just one, you think there’s a brief glimmer of amusement at your gaping mouth and wide-eyed stare before it’s blinked away.

“What—how—cheater.”

He nods towards the bridge, his demeanour as orderly as ever. “You never clarified the terms.”

“Does it ever get irritating? Doing this?”

Your thumb works through another page, legs crossed as you prop the thick volume on your knee. Muted candlelight illuminates the library, ink and paper thick in the air and your lungs. It’s quiet here. You talk because staying silent would make your eyes droop and your defences lower. This is your resting place, but it’s been at least a year or two since you’ve last spoken with Dream. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity.

He doesn’t look up at you from whatever he’s working on. “No.”

Digging through your thoughts, you find another question, “Do you ever get bored?”

You’ve learned to read his minute tells. Days when he’s in the mood for your incessant questions and days when it’s better to sit with him in mutual quiet. Recognising this need has only helped you capitalise on moments such as these.

A gargantuan wooden table separates you. Dream's messy hair is even wilder today, his head edging marginally in your direction to indicate he's paying attention. "This job is not boring. It is demanding, but someone must do it. That is why my siblings and I exist."

“Do you ever get lonely?”

That gives him a pause. A second pulse throbs through the library, perhaps the foundation of this world, which was built upon him, from him, and when the King of Dreams slowly raises his head to gaze at you, there’s mild consideration to be found in his features.

“Do you, Wanderer?” he drawls quietly, and your heart stings, twisting in your ribcage.

“Of course.” You’re not ashamed to admit it. You might have been once, but those parts of you have eroded away long ago. The same way you’ve felt your humanity start to corrode with years, a stone being worn down by an endless storm. Small creases appear around Dream’s eyes, possibly intrigued by your candour, so you add, “So much so that I often find it unbearable. I felt lonely for so long it’s like…”

Long silence stretches between you. You don’t realise your head has lowered back towards the pages until his deep voice reaches you across the quiet space, “Like what?”

Clearing your throat, you shrug your shoulders, pressing your chin briefly into your shoulder. “I don’t remember what not being alone feels like, you know?”

You avoid his stare prickling your cheek, refocusing on your novel.

“You are not alone right now.”

You’re perfectly aware those words mean nothing. That he’s stating the obvious in the same empirical, matter-of-fact manner he often does. He’s right. After all, you’re not alone. You’re sharing this moment together. Two beings alive in the same instance, floating through an endless void of time and chances. A God and an ant. You’re so tiny when compared to him. Despite your brazen words and conduct, you’re a speck for someone like him and his siblings.

The Endless will be here until this universe ceases to exist. You will eat yourself alive one day. There's only one way this ends.

But until that day comes, Dream is right. You’re not alone.

You don’t glance his way, but you do smile. “Neither are you.”

notes: and that's a wrap. god, i'm so rusty when it comes to fics. I do hope to write more for this, the same way I'm hoping for more sandman in general. this will eventually hit canon timeline and potentially go into things past the show (recently bought the comics so I'll be starting them soonish). any thoughts, ideas, or want more? let me know & thank you for reading!!!

#the sandman #dream x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #netflix sandman #fic: today i bury you in me

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sera-wonderland · 2 years

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SOBBING PISSING EVERYWHERE EATING DRYWALL. NAHHHH I WAS TOO CALM AND UNWORRIED THAT I FORGOT THAT YOU EAT ANGST FOR BREAKFAST, LUNCH AND DINNER. YOU REALLY PULLED A SIKE CARD. I SHOULDVE KNOWN THAT THIS WAS GONNA HAPPEN. HES SO STUPID but hes my stupid aha 😛🤪

WANDERER DESERVES BETTER

honestly, i should have expected this from u but 🫠🫠🫠

THE FIRST HALF 😩😛😏

THE SECOND HALF 😳😭🔫

anyways, thank you @the-darklings for this wonderful chapter. love the way a gun teleported to my hand😍😍😍 heres an edit in celebration of part 7 😍😍😍😍

(wandererussy and constantinussy should end up together instead 🫤🙄🫠)

might post some of my previous edits who knows 🙄

those who dont read today i bury you in me, what are you doing? read it now its one of the best slowburn fanfics ive ever read that made my pussy cry 😢😢😢

#fic: today i bury you in me #morpheus x reader #WANDERER GOING TROUGH IT BRO #dream x reader #the sandman x reader #DREAM I SWEAR UR SO STUPID #HONESTLYYYYYY HE GOT ME HEATED #the way a noose teleported to my neck

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rainbowsunflower · 2 years

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#oh boy #there’s so much discourse today about the fandom #and I’m just trying to ignore it #but some stuff really bothers me #is there really a need to generalize things and people just to make yourself seem superior?#I mean idk man I’m biased because I’m here and I’m there and I don’t actually fully belong anywhere (story of my life tbh)#but still… some people are so judgmental. 😕#I just like when we can all get along. and yeah I get that we can’t and won’t always get along #but we larries already get SO MUCH shit from antis solos hets the gp literally EVERYONE #it sucks to have this divide even within larries #and seeing larries attacking larries #like don’t you all think we get enough hate? gotta pile up some more huh?#and I guess that’s why I have been spending more and more time buried inside fics lmao

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satoruxx · 28 days

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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: boyfriend!toji again, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, that obligatory sick fic, bickering, affectionate scolding, pet names, this is very self-indulgent !! rheya's note: had this written for so long and never posted it oops !! but yeah resident grump worrying over his fav what's new?

toji knows something is off as soon as he steps into his apartment. he comes to the conclusion almost immediately, because he isn’t greeted like he normally is when he comes home.

normally, he’ll push the door open and you’ll trip over yourself as you stand from the couch, a giddy smile on your face as you jump into his arms. and being the asshole that he is, toji never hesitates to grumble about it, clicking his tongue as he says things along the lines of “dammit kid one day i won’t catch you” or “jeez baby let me get in the house” or something similar. but despite all that his hands will still be attached to you, rubbing your back as he smothers an amused chuckle against your hair.

but not today. today he’s greeted by quiet and emptiness—a clear lack of you. he had opened the door ready to catch you in his arms, but all he can do is raise a brow at the silence. as much as he normally complains about it, this absence makes his gut churn. he pushes all that aside, more concerned than anything as he drops his jacket onto the couch and heads for the bedroom.

toji is nothing if not observant, paranoid as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the small apartment. it’s ingrained into him—this fear that his past will come back to haunt him and take you away in the most brutal way imaginable. but he tries to ignore that, continuing to head down the hall until he pushes the bedroom door open.

his shoulders drop in relief, seeing you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillows, and he lets out a sigh. he sees you shift a little, signaling that you’re awake, so he takes a few steps forward.

toji climbs onto the bed and lays down next to you, dropping a heavy arm over your back. “what’s wrong?”

“don’t feel good,” you answer back. toji’s brows furrow, and he manages to push his free palm against your forehead. heat pulses against his skin, and his frown deepens.

“the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asks, not unkindly but still stern—you can only glare at him hazily.

“it’s not my fault!”

“uh huh,” toji rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair and pushing it back from your forehead. “so me telling you to put some layers on when you go out in the cold has nothing to do with this?”

you huff, face heating under his pointed stare, and all you can do is shove his hand away, before pathetically burying your face into the sheets again. “shut up.”

“don’t be a brat.” toji lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head indulgently. “it’s your fault for not listening to me.”

“if you’re just gonna lecture me, go away,” you complain, cheek pressed into the pillow. toji snorts, though his hand rubs what you assume to be soothing circles on your back.

“who’s gonna make sure your dumbass doesn’t get into more trouble?”

another indignant huff, and toji only chuckles. “alright c’mon kid. let’s get you in better shape, yeah?” he grunts, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you up. you immediately protest, whining out a plethora of curses attached to his name, and he rolls his eyes. “okay, alright shut up.”

he maneuvers your body into sitting position, leaning you up against the pillows and pulling the blankets up with furrowed brows—meticulous in a way that he is only with very few things.

“you eat anything today?” he asks, still fussing over the blankets, and you gulp quietly. one look and toji’s frown grows deeper. “kid.” the word comes out stressed, like a scolding, and you wince.

“i didn’t feel like it,” you groan, trying not to wilt under his pointed glare.

“don’t care,” he huffs. “your body needs energy, stupid.”

“rude,” you mutter, crossing your arms and toji rolls his eyes.

“whine all you want—“ he stands up, rolling his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. “—still gonna make you eat something. soup okay?”

you don’t want to admit how tempting it sounds, so with an unrelenting amount of stubbornness you glare at him. “fine.”

his lips quirk upward into a smug little grin, and you try to refrain from throwing something at him. he pats your leg. “alright.”

he heads into the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. you hear the occasional sounds of cooking and utensils and before long, the comforting smell of soup wafts through the apartment. you try not to show toji how your mouth is watering when he walks back in, a bowl in his palm.

“here,” he grunts, propping a knee onto the bed that dips under his weight. “eat up, doll.”

you sigh, already hating the feeling of the cool sheets when you move even slightly to reach for it.

“you gonna make me spoon feed you?” toji’s brow quirks—smug, and obviously amused.

“i can do it myself thank you—” you try to take the bowl from him with a glare but he raises it out of your reach and clicks his tongue.

“will y’just let me do this one thing for you, jeez,” he complains, glaring down his nose at you.

you cross your arms with a huff, tone going slightly apologetic. “i feel bad—”

“why the fuck do you feel bad?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowed and confused and caught off guard like you’ve said the most out of pocket thing.

“because—” you stress, throwing your hands up miserably. “you were out on these crazy missions—probably tired as hell. and instead of relaxing you have to come home and take care of me because i was too stupid to look after myself.”

toji groans, putting the bowl on the bedside table before sitting on the bed completely. “kid,” he says emphatically, taking your face in his palms firmly. “how many times do i need to tell you this? i don’t mind lookin’ out for you.”

“yeah but—”

“no shut up,” he snaps, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “you always worry about bothering me or inconveniencing me or some other crap like that. i’m telling you—don’t.”

his thumbs gently press into the apples of your cheeks, and your lips part under his pointed gaze.

“i like doin’ shit for you, okay? ‘n takin’ care of you when you’re sick? that’s nothing.” his lips tug into a lopsided smirk. “who else is gonna look out for you anyway?”

you purse your lips, throat going tight because toji rarely talks like this—so honestly open. and though you’re sure that many people out there would say he’s harsh and mean and not good for you, it’s things like this that prove how wrong they are.

“what’s wrong? did i break your brain?” toji asks, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your head, and you huff out a laugh, pushing his arm away.

“shut up,” you mutter, falling into his chest heavily. he chuckles, low and throaty as he pats your back.

“you up for eating now?” you can feel him reaching for the bowl, and you smile against him, pressing your face further into his warmth because toji will always be nothing but safe for you.

“in a minute,” you answer, looping your arms around his waist. he sighs, shaking his head but he doesn’t say anything else.

but you think you can feel him smile against your hair as he drops a chaste kiss to your forehead—you don’t tell him that though.

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aeyumicore · 1 month

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☾ .⭒˚ heart within reach ♡ zayne x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with some plot

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 5.6k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, car sex, road head, fingering, messyyyy cum smearing, slight degradation (just one line), finger sucking, somewhat public/voyeurism?

⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch in order to read and enjoy, but i highly recommend watching the memory for context and a visual for the fic! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hUtBlb2fjQ

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: HELLO FRIENDS i am back with my twist on the new ‘heart within reach’ memory with zayne :)

i’ll likely be releasing fics at a FAR slower pace now, as i find myself lacking motivation lately and wanting to do other things instead of write. i don’t plan on quitting at all! just will be slower <3 but i’m always checking tumblr and twitter (@/aeyumicore) if you want to interact with me!

please enjoy!

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

you hummed to the low volume of the music thrumming in zayne’s car, the two of you sitting in his audi in front of your apartment building. you didn’t want this perfect day with zayne to end, a day spent together with no emergent surgeries, no threat of wanderers, just you and zayne enjoying the fair and the sunset.

“thank you for hanging out with me today,” you smile softly at him, unwilling to get out of the car just yet.

“you’re welcome,” his hand still rests on the steering wheel as he peers at your apartment through the front dash, “let me know when you’re inside.”

you sigh internally, not at all surprised at zayne’s dismissive words. “okay, ” is all you say as you turn to open the passenger door. but before you do, you decide to glance at him again. he doesn’t make a single sound as his head hangs low, his hand still gripping the steering wheel.

you sigh, trying your best to bury your neediness. you didn’t want the night to end yet; it was rare zayne got full days like today off…or nights. nights where zayne would literally make you forget your own name, only knowing how to chant his name over and over.

“don’t forget mr. seal,” zayne murmurs, snapping you out of your desperate and filthy thoughts of him.

“you don’t want to keep him?”

“he won’t like my house. it’s too monochrome and…simple.” he twists his body to reach for the seal plushie he’d won for you at the fair. you suppress a giggle when instead of grabbing the toy, he speaks to it.

“hello.” you want to tease him for his stoicness even when speaking to an adorable plushie.

“you’re scaring him, dr. zayne!” you burst out laughing, and zayne joins in, the sound of his deep chuckle burrowing deep into your brain and making your heart flutter. it wasn’t often zayne smiled or laughed, he preferred to smile with his eyes. but when he did laugh, it was the most precious sound you’d ever heard.

“i have nothing else to say.” you can’t tell if he means nothing to say to the plushie or to you.

“yeah…see you later?” you say softly. you want to kick yourself for your own unyielding stubbornness, wanting him to show you that he might want to spend more time with you too, that he might want to spend the night with you. it would be much easier if you could just swallow your pride and ask him to come in.

but zayne speaks again before you can even move. his voice is exceptionally low, so much so that your breath hitches, “i was wondering…if i had forgotten something. and if you were upset because of it.” you grin a little, your disappointment fading little by little, knowing he’s teasing you now. knowing he’s fully aware of what you want from him, and that he wants to give it to you. but he wants to make you work a little for it.

“do you remember what you’ve forgotten?” you quip, unwilling to be the one to give in.

“i’m not sure…” his voice is throaty with what you hope is desire, but you stay steadfast in your resolve, unwilling to be the one to admit that you don’t want to leave yet. so you lean in, close enough that zayne can feel your warm breath fan across his face. he does his best to hide the way his breath catches in his throat at just how close you were.

“look zayne,” you say brightly, doing your best to keep your voice from wavering at your proximity to the man you adored with your entire heart.

“what?” comes his curt response, but you can see the way his eyes sparkle with amusement.

“me!”

zayne chuckles, his smile reaching his green eyes, “i know what you look like.” he reaches to stroke your face, playing with the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. you force yourself to keep your eyes on his, and to not let them fall to his lips, that you want on yours so badly. he speaks again, this time his low voice is almost sad and reminiscent, “after this i wont be able to see you for quite some time.”

his hand grabs your chin this time, tilting it upwards so that you’re more level with him. you so desperately want him to pull your face to his, capturing your lips that he does so knee buckling well, “since we’re both very busy we should meet up whenever we can.” he’s very careful with his words, but you can feel the longing in his tone. he will miss you as much, if not more, than how much you will miss him.

“what are you thinking about? you’re smiling.” his fingers still grip your chin, gently but demandingly, not letting you look anywhere but at him. you don’t answer, but your smile widens as you look at his amused deep eyes. you have a feeling he knows exactly what you’re thinking of.

“well…i think i might be very close to the answer,” he murmurs, eyes flitting downward to your lips. your heart skips a beat as you catch him staring at your mouth, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you. you steel yourself, trying to calm your pounding heartbeat, intent on dishing back all of zayne’s feigned cluelessness.

you poke his cheek and your voice comes out playfully, “will you dream of me tonight zayne?”

he chuckles, his hand darting up to touch where your finger grazed, hoping you don’t notice the way his cheeks flush at the slightest touch, “…we did visit a lot of places and i am tired. however it seems unlikely.”

you roll your eyes at the game the two of you were playing and you refused to be the one to give in. you poke his cheek again, pouting, “then i won't dream either.”

zayne catches your hand, still trying to poke his cheek, clenching it softly in his hand and bringing your joined palms down to rest on the center console of his luxurious car. his fingers are cold around yours, but you feel them slowly warm up as they hug onto yours.

when he doesn’t release you from his hold, you peer at him curiously and cocking your head to the side, “why are you still holding my hand, dr. zayne?”

he smirks, thumb rubbing circles onto your wrist, “i’ve only confiscated it. i’ll return it when you decide to behave.” you bite back a shiver at his words, your resolve dissolving little by little. you clench your thighs at the look he gives you, your body always reacting readily to his double meaning laced words and heated expressions of desire.

he leans in, bringing his free hand up to your cheek, cupping it gently. his other hand still holds yours, “alright, it's getting late. you should go home.” despite his words, you can sense the hesitation in his voice. but still, you turn to leave.

“...yeah, bye,” you murmur. but zayne’s grasp on your wrist tightens, pulling you back.

“when would we be able to meet up again?” his voice is hopeful, adorably so. zayne brings his phone to his face, the screen lighting up his face in the dim darkness of his car, twinkling like the lights outside.

“let me guess, your schedule is packed?”

zayne ignores your quip, “next week, sunday.” it’s not a question, he’s telling you. the charge in his voice, the demand, the demand to see you. it makes your skin crawl with anticipation.

“if we’re seeing each other sunday, then ill start getting ready on saturday,” you beam at him, already giddy with excitement. zayne lowers his phone to stare at you.

“anyway…” you lean in to touch his face but pull away just as your fingers are about to caress his cheek, “good night.” you’re about to whip your head around to get out of his car but zayne captures your chin and leans into you. your incessant teasing has backfired, as you find yourself caught like a prey in zayne’s hungry stare. you gulp as his eyes flutter to your lips, and yours to his.

“if i’m able to see you sunday, i'll start getting excited thursday,” zayne’s voice is deep and husky, and he leans in to take your lips into his. you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your mouth as his soft and cold lips press into you. he smiles against you, sensually caressing every part of you against his tongue and pulling you impossibly closer with his fingers on your chin.

he kisses you deliberately, taking it impossibly slow. you can vaguely hear him chuckle into you through the pounding in your ears as your tongue begs him for entry into his mouth. he grants it willingly, and your tongues clash deliciously, leaving you whimpering as your panties dampen at just the feel of his mouth on yours.

you whine when zayne pulls away, to which he chuckles, fingers stroking your chin soothingly.

you speak up and glance at him, his lips alone dissolving all of your stubborn determination, “wh-why should we wait until sunday? i…i don’t want to go yet.”

the content smirk that graces his face makes you blush, “where do you suppose we go?”

“why don’t we take mr. seal to your place? i want you to keep him. so he can see his new home, and we can all watch a movie!” zayne smiles warmly at your giddiness, absolutely in love with the way you light up at the thought of spending more time with him.

“are you sure?” he murmurs softly, almost having to force himself to say the words and fight how much he would love to bring you back to his place and spend every second with you. “you’re not too tired?”

you bite your lip, trying to tamp down your blinding grin and furious blush, “take me to your place zayne.”

zayne wastes no time in peeling out of the street, but leaves his hand on your thigh as he drives with just his left hand. you peek at him through the corner of your eye, admiring how his sharp and defined jaw connects to his bobbing neck, the muscles so defined under the faint night lights. his fingers slowly inch their way under your skirt, rubbing circles into your bare thighs. you pray zayne doesn’t notice the way your thighs press closer together at his touch.

his grip on the fat of your thighs only tighten, using his fingernails to torturously graze inexplicable shapes into your tingling skin. through the edges of your vision, you can briefly make out his satisfied smile.

of course he’s purposely trying to torture you. well two can definitely play that game.

you lean over the center console, looping your arms around his free arm, laying your head into his bicep and intertwining your fingers with his. you can feel his muscles stiffen for a second before they relax under your embrace, his fingers tightening with yours.

“is it okay that i’m coming over?” you murmur into his clothed muscular arm, kissing against the smooth fabric up to his shoulder.

his voice comes out in a grunt, one that makes you smile to yourself as you squeeze his taut muscles. he clears his throat, “yes. why wouldn’t it be?”

your hand moves to rest against his thigh, “you don’t invite me over very often.”

“do you want to come over more often?”

your fingers dig into his thigh, just barely but enough that his thick quad muscles tense up under your touch. despite being the one in control, you can’t stop your voice from coming out as a mere whisper, “of course. i want to see where the amazing dr. zayne lives. where he eats, where he reads his medical journals, where he…goes to sleep at night.” you relish in the way his breath catches ever so slightly at the mention of his bedroom.

when those words leave your mouth, your hand reaches to graze his crotch. you bite your lip in surprise when you’re met with his hard length. filled with renewed confidence, you grasp his erection through his pants.

“y/n…” his voice is a feral warning, “behave.”

but his words only spur you on further. you find yourself replaying every single time zayne has driven you to blinding, world shattering orgasms. his hands on your throat, lips on every inch of your skin, manhood buried deep inside. your thighs clench as your slick continues to dampen your panties, and you decide you don’t want to wait or behave.

your fingers move to undo his belt but zayne’s hand releases yours to grip your hand that’s trying to undress him, “i’m driving.”

his hold is tight and refuses to let you venture further into where you want to go, “you’re a surgeon…i know you can multitask.” you shimmy your fingers from his grasp, but he only grips you tighter. his jaw is clenched and his adam’s apple bobs as he speaks, voice a raspy plea for mercy.

“this can’t wait until we get to my place?”

but you only pout at him, even if his eyes are locked on the road ahead, “please zayne?” you know how he loves when you beg, using it to your advantage. “i’ll be such a good girl for you.”

your pleas make him briefly snap his eyes to yours, off of the road, as his cock threatens to rip through his slacks, wanting nothing more than to be released and seek your touch. in his brief moment of weakness, you deftly free your fingers and undo his belt in one fell swoop. zayne hisses as your hands reach in to grasp his massive erection in your palm, still not used to his more than impressive size no matter how many times he’d molded your cunt into its shape.

“you will actually be the death of me, y/n.” you giggle at his words as your hands find their way to his bare manhood and bring it out into the tepid air of the car, marveling at the way it twitches at every tiny graze across your fingers. you lean over as much as you can against the restraint of your seatbelt, so you can earnestly jerk him up and down in your soft palm.

zayne’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning deathly white as he groans unabashedly at your ministrations. the sound of his moans hits your ears, fueling your confidence and the burning desire in your gut.

zayne thrusts ever so slightly up into your grip, chasing the feeling only your body can bring him, “jesus i’m not gonna last long like this.”

before your confidence has a chance to dissipate, you unlatch your seatbelt and lean you torso over the center console. zayne’s eyes bulge but remain on the road, his hands still holding the steering wheel with a deathly grip. you can tell he’s about to scold you, the worry evident in the way his every muscle tenses under your touch. but before he can reprimand you, you let your tongue swipe the underside of his cock, all the way up to his thickly swollen head.

zayne’s words die on his lips as a strangled growl rips out instead, his hips bucking into you as you take his head fully into your warm mouth. you purposely suckle just his engorged tip, desperate to make him lose complete control because of you.

“ffucking hell y/n,” he moans, squirming under you and raising his hips just slightly, still trying to maintain a tight grip on his self-control. you hum into him, letting the tip of your tongue flick continuously over his leaking slit. the taste of him is sweet on your tongue and so damn addicting. zayne’s breath is so heavy, you can practically feel his body heave up and down with his deep breaths.

finally, you sink lower, taking as much of him as you can before he hits the back of your throat. you gag around him, throat constricting around his thick length as he keeps the car shockingly steady and straight on the road. you feel one of zayne’s hand leave the steering wheel to gently thread itself into the hair on the back of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your scalp as you bob up and down.

“throat’s so damn tight,” zayne grunts out, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.

with how tall zayne is, his seat is far enough back where you can rest your head on his lap, between him and the steering wheel, without endangering your lives. so you rest the side of your head on his lap, lips attaching to the base of his manhood, looking up at him through the blurry tears on your eyelashes. you teasingly lick at him, eyes trained on his flushed face. his eyes occasionally flit down to stare at you in lust-crazed awe before darting back to the road.

“make sure you keep your eyes on the road zayne,” you sing, licking his length like a popsicle, refusing to take him back into your mouth just yet.

“i will, just be a good girl and keep sucking for me baby.”

your chest lurches at his words, absolutely loving his subtle pleas for you. his voice is so urgent with demand and need.

your body aches from your awkward position over the center of his car, but you want to give him more. you bring yourself back up to take him back fully into your lips. starting slow, your pace gradually picks up until you’re full on fucking your throat onto him and the sounds of your gags and moans, his throaty praises, and the obscene squelches of your lips on his soaked cock fill the car.

“shit, i’m gonna cum soon love,” zayne grunts, his hand in your hair a bit more forceful now, pushing you down onto his cock while still maintaining flawless control of the car. you’re unable to contain your deep moans of satisfaction as he grips your head, forcing you to take more. you love the way he’s coming undone for you, evident in the way his hands grab at you fervently and the uncontrollable stream of lust-filled moans leaving his lips.

his length inside your mouth twitches as you diligently suck him off, savoring the taste and feel of him in you. your moans vibrate all around his throbbing length, helping to push him into releasing his load into you. his hips thrust gently into your mouth as his hands push you down, letting his cock fuck into your mouth with the most torturously delicious rhythm. the way your tongue works around him makes him shiver as he alternates between watching the road and you with dilated eyes. you can barely register the effortless turns he makes with his single hand, or when the car grinds to a smooth stop.

“fuuck – my girl is doing so damn good for me,” he breathes out, the lightest whine in his throat which strokes your ego. your heart flutters when he calls you his, and your throat tightens as you continue to bob.

zayne’s grip in your hair tightens, “gonna cum, you’re gonna take it all right?”

you hum in approval. the vibrations resonate in every inch of zayne’s leaking erection as he explodes into your mouth and down your throat, his load so thick and heavy that it threatens to make you choke.

“jesus fuck – hah – fuck,” he swears as he shoots out endless ropes into your throat, his release never ending as your lips and tongue work in tandem to prolong his pleasure.

zayne strokes your hair as he languidly thrusts up into your mouth, riding out the last waves of his intense orgasm. you do your best to swallow every drop, but stray rivulets of his spend drip down your chin as you release his cock with a pop.

as you sit up, zayne watches you in awe and adoration, reeling from what just happened, what you just did for him. he grabs your chin once again, “open, let me see.”

you giggle, wincing slightly at the sore aches in your throat as you stick your tongue out for him to inspect. he uses his thumb to catch the cum falling down your chin, scooping it back up to your mouth. you take him into your mouth eagerly, always desperate to please him.

his eyes darken as he watches you lick his digit clean, so shadowed they reflect the night sky outside. it’s then you notice that zayne’s car is parked, and not in front of his home. you look out the tinted windows and see you’re back at the bridge overlooking the linkon river, only it’s completely empty and dark now that the sun has set.

“why are we–” but yours words are cut off as zayne unlatches his seatbelt and swiftly exits the car and opens the back door, leaving you confused. you’re about to get out too but zayne is on your side in an instant, opening your door and yanking you out. you yelp as he hooks his arms under your knees and easily carries you out like a princess.

“zayne!” you squeal, “what are you doing?!”

he doesn’t answer, instead leaning down to press his lips into yours, kissing you with a bruising passion that makes you lose your breath. you feel him lower you into his backseat, still hunched over with his lips firmly attached to yours. he quickly pulls mr. seal out from under you and places the plushie on the rear window shelf. you almost want to giggle at his actions, finding it adorable how he cares about the plushie enough to not just knock it over onto the car floor.

you pull away reluctantly as your back hits the cool leather, “zayne? what are we doing here? what’s going on?”

zayne climbs in between your legs, shutting the door behind him, and loosening his tie. you squeak when your skirt rides up and his knee pushes firmly against your cunt. you bite your lip as you watch him undo his tie, pulling it off completely before bending back down until he’s inches from your breath. his palm cups your sex under your skirt, pulling a surprised squeal from your lips.

“since you want to be such a desperate little cock hungry girl,” he murmurs, fingers moving your panties to the side and sliding his slender fingers into your dripping slit, “i’m gonna treat you like one.”

you moan as his finger breaches you, back arching off the backseat, grinding further into his finger.

“look at you,” he grins, “so needy for me. can’t even wait until i take you back to my place, huh?”

your response dies on your tongue as he inserts another finger, stretching you around him, “so fucking eager to have my cock in your mouth.”

you whine at the welcomed intrusion, fluttering around his lengthy fingers and doing your best to speak, “nnng, m’sorry zayne just needed to taste you so so bad.”

the content look of satisfaction lights up his handsome features, “what about this pussy baby? does she need me too?” your eyes roll into the back of your skull as he curls his fingers inside of you, your fingers seeking to clutch something, anything, to ground you amidst the pleasure. you try to answer his filthy words, but his fingers stroking your spongy g spot render you a blubbering mess.

“look at her,” he coos, “perfect little pussy was made just for me.” his fingers make you see stars. “you want to be filled so badly huh? can’t even wait until we get home?”

with his free hand, zayne reaches to bring his cock out, still painfully hard despite the unbelievable amount of cum he’d unloaded into your mouth.

against all odds, your brain clears for a brief second to let you think logically while your eyes dart around, “w-wait, what if some-someone sees?” the excitement builds in your core at the thought of zayne, who normally was so averse to any kind of pda, wanting you so badly he’d pulled over so he could take you in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of a public park.

but even at this angle you can tell zayne’s windows are so tinted, coupled with the darkness outside there’s no way anyone could see unless they had their noses pressed up against the glass.

zayne slips your panties down and off your legs, pocketing them before lining his leaking cock with your quivering hole. he rubs his tip up and down, brushing it against your swollen clit. your body arches towards him, begging to be used by him as your lewd moans ring in his ear.

“so?” he murmurs, ghosting along your hole but refusing to put it in just yet. “i would love for someone to see how this perfect little cunt takes me.” he inserts his tip in, just that alone knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“how it was made just for me to fuck,” he grunts, easing himself into you. one of your legs hangs off the car seat as the other rests on his shoulder. with one hand he holds your thigh and the other grips the door rest for support as he hunches over you. his words make your tummy stir, your cunt clenching around him. as he bottoms out, your hand clutches at the driver seat headrest, needing to ground yourself as he stretches you to the max.

“zaaayne,” you slur, “s-so big. feel soo good, please.” your hands reach to clutch at his perfect face, admiring the tiniest twinges in his muscles as he burrows as deeply as possible in your pussy that hugs him so perfectly. his hand releases its grip on the door handle to squeeze your hips, pulling and dragging you against his hard pelvis with every thrust.

the sound of your bare ass repeatedly pounding against his body rings in the small constraint of the back seat, the air thick with sex and arousal. you can vaguely feel your slick dripping down the plush of your ass, onto the leather as zayne fucks into you like he’s trying to find your esophagus with his cock.

through your hooded eyes you can see how fogged up the windows have become, ensuring that virtually nobody could see into the car. but if anyone did see the steamy glass it would be absolutely no secret what the occupants inside were doing. the thought of that excited you beyond comprehension.

zayne throws his head back as he continues his incessant rolls into your core, gasping out a deep and guttural cry, “heaven. you are heaven.”

his words have you whining, using your nails to clutch at his shoulders, clawing desperately at his muscles.

“ngh, z-zayne,” you pant, stray dribbles of drool dripping down your chin, your breasts bouncing with the force at which he spears you onto his body.

“look at you, soaking the damn seats,” zayne chuckles, eyeing the shiny slick on the expensive leather seats, “do you like it when i take you in the back of my car? like a needy little cock whore?”

you gasp at his words, unbelievably aroused at the utter filth that comes out of his mouth as he ruts as deep as he can into your velvet warmth.

zayne groans, “did you just get tighter?” his eyes sparkle as he gazes at you with adoration and reverence. “god, you like it when i talk to you like that huh?” you nod vigorously, fighting the blush on your cheeks and squeezing your eyes shut as you feel yourself succumbing to an incoming orgasm.

“so perfect, so fucking perfect,” he moans, cock quivering in your folds, “thought about this all fucking day.”

“i walked around that fair all day when i just wanted to be in here,” he places his fingers on the mound of your cunt and massages gently, a stark contrast to the brutal pace of his cock ramming inside your sensitive walls. “could fucking live in you.”

you whimper as his thumb shifts to your clit, forcing you to face your impending orgasm head on.

“zaaayne, i’m-im gonna cum,” you wail, hands finding purchase on his thick pulsing neck, nails digging into his nape, sure to leave marks. he hisses at the sting that only feeds the intensity of the pleasure he derives from pounding into your perfect walls.

zayne grabs your chin roughly, bringing your thrown back head back up to meet his heated and hungry eyes and then pulling your chin down, “watch. watch me fuck my load inside you.” you're instantly hypnotized at the sight of his slick and shiny length rutting in and out of you, the veins glistening and throbbing with need.

“good fucking girl,” he grunts, pounding into you with a new vigor as he reaches his undoing alongside you. your leg is bent in a muscle screaming angle while he roughly grabs the side of your neck, bringing your foreheads together as he makes his final thrusts.

keeping your eyes on where your bodies are joined, you cry out, “nnngh zayne, m’cumming. please, please, don’t stop.” zayne harshly groans at your pleas, the sounds of your unhinged begging forever ingrained in his mind. your climax causes you to squeeze unbelievably tight around him, sending him toppling over his own orgasm.

the sounds of your combined moans fill the air as zayne spurts rope after rope of thick and hot cum into your quivering hole. you whimper as he suddenly pulls out of you, eyes widening as you watch even more cum erupt from his massive length, the warm milky cum painting the outside of your cunt, leaking between your lips, into your rear, and onto his luxurious leather seats.

zayne is panting, clutching onto your thigh still thrown over his shoulder, “so fucking messy.” he uses his length, somehow still erect, to smear his cum all over the outside of your cunt, practically fucking into your lips. your entire body shakes as he brushes against your overstimulated clit.

“no-no more,” you whimper, scooting backwards into the side door and sitting up.

zayne smirks, “what happened to my impatient girl? you were so eager when i was driving.” he uses his index and middle finger to swipe down your slit, coating his digits in your combined spend.

bringing it up to your parted lips, his satisfied grin deepens, “since my girl is so eager for my cum, don’t want you missing the taste.” you roll your eyes, but take him into your mouth instinctively. your body always has a mind of its own, willing to do everything and anything to please the unbelievably handsome doctor before you.

zayne presses down onto your tongue as he watches you devour his fingers, biting back the groan of arousal. he pulls away, kneeling up to redo his pants. you sit up, trying to smooth out your clothing but there’s absolutely nothing you can do about the absolute puddle between your thighs.

“zaaayne,” you whine as he climbs off of you, feeling exposed as the warm sex-filled draft of the car brushes against your bare cunt, “where are my panties?”

his eyes glimmer with mischief while his fingers lovingly smooth out your wild thoroughly sexed up hair.

“i’ve confiscated them. you’ll get them back when we get back to my home.”

you pout at him, but don’t argue, knowing you will absolutely not get your way this time.

zayne throws his arm around your shoulder and you melt into his strong arm, feeling utterly exhausted and content. zayne leans over to kiss the top of your head, breathing in the smell of your pheromones and the arousal laced air. you watch the steam on the windows slowly dissipate to reveal how the night lights glitter against the calm river.

his voice is gruff, deep with satisfaction and tiredness, when he finally breaks the comfortable silence, “will you stay with me tonight?” his tone is calm and controlled but you can distinctly make out the faintest traces of desperation, which makes your heart flutter.

“i thought you’d never ask.” you don’t notice zayne’s faint sigh of relief as his arms grip you tighter against him, finding solace in the rhythmic way your body heaves and your heartbeat steadies.

eventually zayne, despite your cries of protest, carries you back to the passenger front door, placing you gently into the seat and buckling you in before getting back into the driver seat and starting the car. you squirm as the slick between your legs continues to drip, shifting so your skirt blocks the leather from your bare skin.

“will you dream about me if i’m sleeping next to you?” you tease, bringing up your conversation from earlier. you can’t help but admire the handsome features of his side profile as he focuses on the road.

though he doesn’t turn to you, you can see the quirk in the corner of his lips, “in order to dream, you need to sleep.” his hand leaves the steering wheel to stroke your knee, making you shiver at his possessive touch. “and since i plan to stay up all night devouring you…i won’t have time to dream.”

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